Part 24 (2/2)

His own words startled him. ”I'd like to take you. I usually keep it at a small place I own but it needed some mending.”

”Where?”

”A bayou south of here. It's peaceful there.”

”And you like peace?” An element of surprise shaded her voice.

”If you had grown up where I did, you'd like peace, too.”

She was silent. He knew she was probably aware of where he grew up. It would have been in the background information she'd gathered when he had testified.

The silence served to emphasize the difference between them. She had grown up in the mansions of New Orleans, he in the slums. She had probably gone to the best private schools; he had attended the worst public schools and had gained a scholars.h.i.+p only because he'd realized athletics was the fastest way out.

The fact that he'd once thought that skill would equalize him with her kind had proved a fantasy.

'Remember that.'

Then he heard Beast, who tore out of his dog door into the fenced backyard, racing around and barking furiously until he saw Gage. The dog came to an abrupt stop, tipped his head to regard the newcomer and let his long tongue loll out.

”This is Beast,” he said. ”He won't hurt you. Truth is, he wouldn't hurt a flea, but he scares the h.e.l.l out of everyone.”

She went to the fence and held out her hand. Beast first sniffed, then licked it with embarra.s.sing eagerness.

She knelt. ”Hi,” she told the animal.

Beast palpitated with happiness.

”I'm going to sue you for alienation of affections,” he said.

”But you need a witness,” she retorted.

”One look at Beast s...o...b..ring over you would convince a jury.”

A sly, mischievous smile curved her lips. ”I can't help it. He's very charming.”

”I've never heard that particular term used for Beast,” he said with amus.e.m.e.nt. ”Are you insinuating he's more charming than I am?”

She raised an eyebrow. ”I can't answer on the grounds it might incriminate me.”

He gazed down at her with an odd sense of contentment settling deep inside him. What was it about her that made him feel comfortable?

”It's h.e.l.l to come in second to something that looks like Beast.” He turned toward the front door, taking her hand as he did. She didn't resist, and her fingers curled around his.

Gage unlocked the front door and led her in, wondering what she would think about his odd little house.

Thank G.o.d, the housekeeper had been there three days earlier and he hadn't had a chance to trash it over the weekend. It was acceptable, though not, he knew, what she must be accustomed to. He knew where she lived, where her father lived. It was only a few miles away but it might as well be another world.

She stepped in, and Beast was there, having made his way through the dog door. He panted heavily but sat down in front of her and offered his paw.

She took it solemnly and gave Gage a look of delight. ”He has very good manners.”

”He thanks you,” he said, inordinately pleased and at the same time displeased at that pleasure.

”Did you teach him that?”

He shrugged. ”He's a smart dog.”

”How did you find him?”

”A drug bust. Apparently, he was supposed to intimidate. He tried his best, but his heart wasn't really in it. He took one look at me and came over to the good side.”

”You told me to get a dog. If I do, will you train him?”

He shrugged. ”I don't want to mislead you. I didn't train him. He trained himself.”

d.a.m.n, if she kept looking at him like that with those blue eyes, he would take her right on the hall table.

He forced himself to stop looking and led the way into the living room. It was a man's s.p.a.ce. A large leather sofa and two leather easy chairs were situated in front of a large television set. Bookcases surrounded a sound system.

He saw her gaze travel over the room, just as he had done with her office. ”What's your pleasure? I have beer, scotch, bourbon, red wine.”

”Beer.”

He'd expected the red wine. But as usual, she surprised him. She was making a habit of that.

”Coming up. Make yourself comfortable.”

He went into his kitchen. Small but functional. A bachelor, he'd been forced to learn to cook.

She followed. Beast followed her.

Alienation of affection, indeed. The d.a.m.n dog had fallen in love.

He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. ”Gla.s.s?”

”Nope.”

He must have looked startled because she chuckled and added, ”You didn't think lady lawyers drank beer from the bottle? It's colder that way.”

”I didn't think daughters of New Orleans's most prominent families drank beer from a bottle,” he corrected.

She grimaced. ”Don't tell me you're a reverse sn.o.b.”

He probably was. He didn't want to admit it. Instead he reached in and grabbed a beer for himself. As he closed the door, he stepped back.

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